Chapter Thirty-Five: An Encounter (Part Two)

Three men had already given chase, but four remained with the middle-aged man, guarding him closely.

“Hunting Squad?” The middle-aged man frowned, his gaze fixed on Lin Yang ahead. Turning slightly, he whispered something to those behind him, then nodded. His protectors continued forward, leaving three to face Lin Yang.

“Trying to leave? Not a chance!” Gong Hou’s booming shout erupted, followed by the whirl of an axe slicing through the air. The middle-aged man’s expression darkened; one of the special operatives behind him stepped forward, a violet energy blade flaring in his hand as he raised it to block the axe. A thunderous crash rang out—the operative was hurled away like a marble, smashing through a flowerbed and shattering the statue beyond the square.

“Be careful, he’s a Kinetic!” The flung operative pulled himself from the rubble, apparently not gravely hurt. The spinning axe returned to Gong Hou’s hand. He stepped forward, positioning himself on Lin Yang’s left, the two men blocking the only ways through.

“These two must be the Power God and the Flashblade from the Doom Squad—both are espers. None of you can take them one-on-one.” The middle-aged man’s face was grim. “The one who fired earlier must be Deadeye. He’s troublesome—watch for his attacks.”

“Beyond that, as far as I know, there should be two more.” His eyes searched the surroundings, finally landing on a disappearing black sedan down a side road. He sighed. “If those two are here as well, then we’re truly exposed—nothing in our plan will stay hidden.”

“Nothing more to say. Let’s fight. I’m curious to see just how powerful the Hunting Squad is.” One of the special operatives behind the middle-aged man spoke. “B7, B12, B19—you keep Flashblade occupied.” The three who’d already stepped forward nodded.

“2B, B49, you protect the Professor. And B1, stop playing dead. We’ll handle Power God.” 2B was the only woman among them, her figure shrouded in a muted, oversized trench coat. Her equipment and weapon remained unseen, her hood shadowing her face so that only her rosy lips, curved in a faint smile, were visible.

“You’re the leader, so it’s your call, isn’t it, A17?” B1 emerged from the rubble, making it clear that the leader was an S-class operative—the last of the S-class, nearly equal to the top B-class in strength.

Both men drew their energy blades, advancing on Gong Hou, who was encased in battle armor. As they approached, Gong Hou raised his middle finger, then crouched low. With a sudden burst of power, the ground beneath his feet buckled and flew upward under massive recoil. Gong Hou shot forward, arriving before A17 in an instant, bringing his axe down. A17 remained composed, his blade crossed before his chest to take the blow head-on; but the impact sent him staggering back a dozen paces, each footstep gouging deep into the earth.

“Impressive strength!” A17 shouted, his eyes lighting with excitement. B1 struck out suddenly; Gong Hou countered with a backhanded axe swing, and both men fell back a step. Gong Hou cursed inwardly—either of these two matched him alone, and together they were formidable. Yet now was not the time to retreat. He swung his axe at B1, having identified him as the weaker of the two—an opportunity he’d be a fool not to seize.

Compared to Gong Hou’s brutal contest, Lin Yang’s battle was a display of flowing grace. He was already the fastest among them, and his spatial abilities rendered his movements elusive, the pink glow of his sword flickering between three opponents. He couldn’t break their defense, but the trio of B-class operatives were left helpless.

“The Hunting Squad is truly extraordinary,” the middle-aged man muttered, watching Gong Hou and Lin Yang battle the special operatives evenly. “If I had been their equal years ago, perhaps we wouldn’t have chosen this path today.”

B49 shook his head. “Professor Famos, everything you do now is for the advancement of humanity. The world is unjust—you’re only making it fairer, better.”

Famos’s expression didn’t soften; he only sighed. “Let’s hope so.” As he spoke, 2B moved. No one saw her action—white brilliance flashed, golden sparks danced in the void, and with her intervention, a bullet fired from afar was intercepted two meters from Famos.

“Where?” B49 finally realized, seeing 2B standing before him. Her black cloak hid her tightly, but the wind stirred its hem, revealing a pair of delicate, bare feet—perfect as crafted art.

“Since you’re here, why not show yourself?” Her crimson lips parted, her magnetic voice carrying a bewitching edge. A confident smile curled at her mouth—she had no fear of the enemy concealed among the high-rises. B49 drew his sword, the blade burning red, and positioned himself behind 2B, vigilant.

Xie Liu was hidden high in a building. He’d timed his shot with the clash between Gong Hou and the operatives, masking the report. Yet his bullet was intercepted. He changed position at once, crunching the lollipop in his mouth. “Tch. No good, after all?” His eyes narrowed at the middle-aged man, protected by two operatives, a flicker of killing intent in his gaze. Then he saw the black-cloaked operative turn toward him.

“Damn, how did she spot me?” Xie Liu’s heart lurched. He ducked and leapt into the blind spot of another building.

“What’s wrong?” B49 was still on guard, seeing 2B turn away. “That person’s killing intent is strong,” 2B replied coldly, her head turning beneath the cloak toward another building. “But he’s good at controlling it—I can’t sense much.”

“Still using your ability?” B49 sneered. 2B’s body shifted—before he finished, a gleaming dagger was at his throat. “I don’t want to hear that again.” Her hand, gloved in white silk, revealed a translucent, delicate palm gripping a white blade pressed to his neck.

“All right, I won’t,” B49 forced a smile, hands raised. He knew this girl killed without hesitation—now was not the time to provoke her. The blade left his throat; B49 was about to speak when his face changed. But 2B moved first—her dagger arced backward, striking a flying knife with a crisp clang and sending it spinning away. She snorted and chased after it, but before she could find its owner, Xie Liu, clad in black, darted past her with such speed she barely registered.

“Damn!” 2B spun in surprise—already, a black-clad man was at B49’s side. “Stop him!” she cried, her voice sharp. B49 smirked, sword ready. But the man before him looked up, revealing blood-red eyes and a wicked smile. A chill of dread ran through B49—an instant later, the man vanished, his attack a mere phantom. Then, he appeared on B49’s left, seizing his arm and wrenching it out of socket with a twist.

“Ah—!” B49 roared, struggling, but the man was already at his right, steel wire lashing his other arm, twisting B49’s body around forcefully. “You—!” B49 snarled, trying to break free, but too late—his own blade was already in the man’s hand, reversed and thrust into his throat.

B49 died incredulous—never believing he could be killed so swiftly. Alone, he’d had hundreds of ways to toy with this man, but reality offered no ifs. From the moment the first knife was thrown, his enemy’s sole target was himself. Failing to recognize the first image as a mere afterimage, he was doomed. Bound tight, eyes full of unwillingness, B49 fell, dead but unyielding.

Xie Liu unclipped his belt, tossing it beside B49’s corpse without a glance. His goal was beyond—but he knew, even if he charged now, he’d never reach it. The truly dangerous one was still watching. He didn’t take B49’s sword; with its master dead, the blade lost its glow, reverting to an unremarkable metal rod. Xie Liu turned, his black coat fluttering. With the help of his spirit companion, he’d slain B49 in one blow, but he felt no relief. He realized—this man was the weakest of the group. The strongest two were tied up by Power God, while he was facing the most mysterious…

As Xie Liu turned, he froze. He’d expected a cold-blooded warrior, but before him now stood a girl—one so beautiful it seemed unreal.

Her cloak had fallen back, revealing a cascade of silver hair and eyes to match. She could be no older than twenty—delicate features, lovely yet cold, her gaze brimming with killing intent. Xie Liu hesitated, surprised to find his adversary was such a striking young woman.

Yet it was her ears that caught his attention—one ending in a pointed tip, like an elf from Western lore, the other apparently severed, its tip gone. “You’re not from the Special Alliance, are you?” Xie Liu asked, surprised at the uninjured ear. “Who are you?” He knew of no such race outside the City.

“Special Alliance, B-class operative, codename 2B.” Her expression was dark, ignoring his question. Xie Liu bit his lip; her eyes held only indifference. He shook his head, then suddenly grinned. “By the way, where’s 9S?”

“There is only one S-class operative in the Special Alliance—there is no 9S.” She spoke calmly, as if nothing concerned her. Xie Liu rubbed his forehead. “Really, not even a sense of humor? What a shame for such a beauty…” He broke off, leaping two meters back as her knife flashed out. She hadn't moved, but her blade was already in motion. Only Xie Liu’s mutated eyes caught that lightning-fast strike. The spot where he’d just stood was sliced clean, as if cutting through tofu.

“Roses are lovely, but they have thorns,” Xie Liu quipped, retreating two more steps to evade her next two slashes. “I don’t want to fight you. You’re from the City—I sense neither genetic nor mechanical augmentation on you.”

Her gaze grew colder, her attacks swifter. Xie Liu dodged several strikes, then drew his own katana, parrying her assault. Glancing back, he saw her gliding along the ground like a skater, swiftly bypassing him and returning to the man’s side. “You’re really going to stand against me?” he called, making no move to pursue.

“You’re protecting him—so you can’t fight at full strength. That puts you at a disadvantage, doesn’t it?” Xie Liu turned, watching as she gripped her blade with both hands, poised to strike. In that instant, her presence seemed to vanish entirely—had he not seen her eyes and crossed blades with her, he’d have mistaken her for a statue.

Xie Liu lowered his katana, searching for an opening. He was sure—if she’d had no genetic or mechanical enhancements, her physical abilities couldn’t match his. Yet she was ranked second among B-class operatives, and she’d twice detected his attacks before B49. She must possess an extraordinary ability.

As he pondered, the girl slowly closed her eyes. Xie Liu’s brow furrowed. “What’s she doing?” Before he could finish the thought, she moved—her blade silent, slashing toward him. Startled, he twisted aside, only to find her sword tracking his movement mid-strike, cutting toward his chest. He barely managed to block, forced back three steps, out of her range. Looking up, he saw her again standing motionless, blade in hand.

“What strange swordplay. Can she hit me with her eyes shut?” Xie Liu muttered, frustrated—his target was just behind her, but he couldn’t move forward. He shifted slightly; her sword tip followed.

“I see.” He frowned, realizing her power—she could sense intent. Before any action, the body betrays subtle signs, perhaps through aura; her responses were real-time and unerring. “A useful ability.” But needing to close her eyes meant she hadn’t mastered it fully—she had to shut out distractions and tune her senses to detect his faintest signals. Xie Liu scratched his head. Yes—any move on his part would draw an immediate, precise, and lethal strike.

With that, he sheathed his sword and turned away. “Can’t win—time to go.” And he walked off.

“Huh?” For the first time, the girl’s voice betrayed emotion—surprise. She opened her eyes, staring at Xie Liu’s retreating figure. For a moment, her cold gaze was lost.

Then Xie Liu moved. As 2B’s eyes opened, he spun, his katana flashing with icy light, sweeping toward her neck.

“It’s over!” For the first time, panic flickered in her eyes; she’d had no time to predict or counter his lightning-fast strike. With her eyes open, her power was halved—she’d never expected this.

The blade’s arc neared her throat; for the first time, despair appeared in her eyes. She met Xie Liu’s gaze—his blood-red eyes radiating a killing intent so intense it threatened to shatter her. What unspeakable carnage had he endured to burn with such murderous will? She tried to retreat, but terror rooted her to the spot, her body frozen.

“Die!” Xie Liu’s cold shout rang out; in the next instant, her head would be severed, his mission complete. As for mercy—let that be for the heroes of other tales. His sword swung without hesitation, a crimson line about to bloom.

But the expected scene did not follow.

Xie Liu’s body froze—his blade halted less than a centimeter from her pale neck, unable to go further. His eyes shifted, pupils contracting in shock—a man had appeared at his side, hand clamped on the blade.

The girl, snatched from the brink of death, stumbled back, collapsing to the ground, her bare feet scrabbling desperately to escape danger.

“2B, you’re stronger than him, and yet you lost. Do you know why?” The man gripping Xie Liu’s katana spoke softly. “Because you lack his ruthlessness.” He turned his face, and Xie Liu saw him clearly for the first time—handsome, resolute features, lips curled in a faint smile. “We meet at last. I am S-class operative—you may call me Ace.”